David Foster Wallace has this story in Brief Interviews with Hideous Men  about this girl who is very depressed and because she is very depressed spends all her time talking on the phone with people about how depressed she is, but then becomes paranoid that she's a burden on her friends and that they are avoiding talking to her and in order to reassure herself that she is not a burden she begins calling her friends all the time to the point that they actually are avoiding her and she has become a burden. I've been thinking about this story all day long, even though it isn't very relevant to me right now, I just feel rather anxious (by rather anxious I mean extremely so, the kind where it feels like little ants are crawling around my veins) and this anxiety will probably fade within a couple of days, but it's really hard to talk to people and tell them you are upset. It's like my being upset is repelling, even though I don't feel this way when people talk to me and they're upset. But picking up the phone was the right choice and I feel significantly better now than I did and am glad I didn't just try to sit and wallow in my anxiety. Anxiety is hard to wallow in as it is too active.